ZumB
by Ayanhart
Summary: A deadly bio-weapon has escaped from a lab and has infected the entire world. To those who didn't fall at the first strain, every day is now a battle for life and death: fighting with the recently deceased, who have somehow come back to life. How can mankind possibly survive? Rated T for language, death and violence.


**Hi! Okay, before I start I just need to get this out of the way. I know the whole idea of a zombie apocalypse thing has been done countless many times before, but I couldn't find one on here (and if there is one and I've just missed it, I'm sorry.) I was watching the Walking Dead and loads of ideas kept coming into my head. I've been playing with ideas, going through the fandoms I'm part of and trying to decide which one it would best suit.**

**Eventually, I stopped at Vocaloid. It's great fun writing for this, you can pretty much create every character (apart from name and image) from scratch. Just basing their personality on what you feel is appropriate. Also, apart from in one or two cases, none of them have any relation to each other whatsoever, it's also great coming up with that.**

**Also, there's no worrying about characters going OOC ;)**

**If you couldn't tell already, this is the first story I've wrote for the Vocaloid. I'm still relatively new to Vocaloid, so please forgive my very limited knowledge of characters. I was going through the character list thinking 'OMG!' But give me some time and I'll be able to name every single one of them.**

**Okay, this is basically a trial chapter. It's short - only 764 words - and just enough to give you a feel of how I write and whether you might be interested in reading more. If I get no interest (aka reviews/alerts/favourites) then I'll remove it and not bother continuing.**

**Yes, that is a hint.**

**If there is interest and I do write more, expect there to be a significant delay between this and the next chapter upload. As I've posted on all my current fics, I want to get enough chapters done before uploading the next one, to allow a reasonable safety net for if I fall behind. Once I have it all sorted, I'll start updating regularly: most likely once a month.**

**Okay... urr I think that's it now.**

**Disclaimer: Vocaloid does not belong to me. It belongs to... whoever it is that owns it. (I really need to look it up...). Technically, this plot is my intellectual property, as are any OCs that might appear.**

**So, yeah! R&R! Please?**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"_Recent reports say that almost one third of the world's population has been already consumed by the virus, ironically called Zum-B. Some of the highest percentages of casualties have been recorded in western societies like the US, UK, Canada and Europe. It's almost odd to think that those who should have, by all rights, been the best prepared for something like this, are some of those that have suffered the worst. Still, they're nothing but a patch on the very densely populated countries, like India, China and Japan, the worst of which has had fifty-six percent of its populace converted by the virus or those infected by it._

"'_Will Mankind ever be able to bounce back from such an attack?' That is the question on many people's lips as they survive every day. The airborne strain of the virus is almost impossible to avoid, and those that are immune are now fighting to remain alive as, to date, there have been no recordings of immunity to the physical strain of the virus. The physical strain is spread through bodily fluids, like saliva and blood, and even one microbe of the virus entering a person's system ensures certain death and the ensuing conversion."_

The man sitting, watching the news broadcast – the only thing on the TV nowadays – sighed and continued stroking his sleeping daughter's hair. His mind drifted back to where he'd used to work, feeling partially guilty for the situation the world was in now.

Zum-B had originally been developed as a bio-weapon; one that would unleash havoc on any country it was dropped. It should infect those that didn't have a natural immunity and those infected should take care of the rest. Those infected were designed to expire after a few days; however, unfortunately, they seemed to have missed adding that into the mix, as the infected didn't die by themselves. They just kept wandering around mindlessly, looking for more people to eat.

There had been a leak at the lab developing it, and the whole place had gone into shutdown. There had been sixty-four scientists inside that day; only seven – including himself – had managed to escape before the entrance was sealed. Unfortunately, some particles of the virus escaped too and began multiplying.

Within a few days, three of the seven who'd escaped were violently ill and were in the first stage of conversion. They were quickly disposed of. Also, many people in the vicinity of the lab were showing the initial signs upon intake of the virus. They were also disposed of.

However, despite the remaining scientists' valiant efforts, people were still changing and attacking those around them... Then those that were attacked were changing and attacking those around them... Then those others that were attacked were changing and attacking those around them...

And thus, the vicious circle of infection and conversion began...

Slowly, he stood. Gently placing his daughter's head down onto the sofa, where he'd previously been sitting. His son raised his sharp blue eyes from the book he must have read at least ten times, an unsaid question hovering on the teen's tongue.

"I'm just going to feed your mother," he replied, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, and the blue-eyed boy nodded understandingly.

The middle-aged man shuffled through to the kitchen and opened a drawer, quickly locating what he'd been looking for. He walked, now with more purpose, to a storage cupboard off to the side, unlocked it and pulled it open.

The creature inside growled and hissed, tugging at the ropes and chains that held her tied up. The man bent down to eyelevel with the once human creature and let his eyes fall to the object in his hands.

"I'm sorry, my dear," He said in a soft voice. "I never wanted to have to do this, but once I'm gone I can't really expect the twins to look after you, can I? I couldn't break their hearts like that." Standing up, he levelled the gun with his once wife's forehead. "Goodbye, my dear."

_BANG!_

He stood back as the body flopped onto the floor, staring straight ahead. "So this is how it ends..." He muttered. He raised the gun, pressing it against his temple. "Rin... Len... I'm sorry for leaving, but I can't bear the guilt anymore..."

_BANG!_


End file.
